


Bloom

by TheDruidIsIn



Series: Spencer Reid Files [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Biting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Character of Color, Fluff and Smut, Mentions of Past Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Post-Coital Cuddling, Secret Relationship, Shy Spencer Reid, Sleepy Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28622571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDruidIsIn/pseuds/TheDruidIsIn
Summary: Sweet, indulgent fluffy smut with Spencer and this MC, Violet. In which MC is Spencer's partner and brings groceries to him, then fluff and smut ensue with a slight surprise for MC.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/MC, Spencer Reid/Original Character(s), Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader
Series: Spencer Reid Files [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097396
Comments: 4
Kudos: 53





	Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> MC/OC's name (Violet) is recycled from a few other one-shots. Title is inspired by the song Bloom by Paper Kites.

...

Bloom

…

_When the evening pulls the sun down,_

_And the day is almost through,_

_Oh, the whole world it is sleeping,_

_But my world is you._

…

“Spencer?” I called as I slipped into his apartment, closing the door with my foot as one hand fumbled for the light and the other struggled with groceries. Since his team worked an odd schedule, he often didn’t have time to get anything himself. At one point it meant he ate sparingly or not at all until I picked up on it. I adopted the habit of shopping for both of us when I went to the store to keep his fridge and pantry well-stocked with things he liked, and went out of my way to leave him leftovers when I knew he’d be due back in Quantico. Being that we lived on the same hall ever since one of his neighbors moved out a few months ago, it was easy for me to drop by at any time and check up on things.

I didn’t get a response from him, so I shrugged, locked the door, and shuffled almost sideways down the hallway into the kitchen. As soon as I dumped everything onto the kitchen table, I doubled back to put my jacket in the hall closet, washing my hands when I returned. I put everything away as quickly as possible, a little anxious to check in on Spencer. It seemed as if he were home tonight. His bag was by the couch, and I remembered seeing his cardigan and scarf when I hung up my jacket. 

When I peeked into his bedroom, I saw him propped up against the wall, his neck bobbing gently but crooked at an awkward angle. An open book lay in his lap, his fingers loosely grasping at it. I grinned, leaning against the doorframe to observe him for a few moments. He must have fallen asleep reading again.

I crossed the room to him and reached out to shake his shoulder gently. “Spencer.”

After a few moments his eyes opened. Confusion, then recognition and realization, lit his gaze as he blinked sleepily at me. “Violet?”

“Hey, Spencer.” I lightly traced my fingertips over his cheek. “Don’t worry, I washed my hands.”

He smiled softly, turning to press his lips into the heel of my palm. “I knew you would have.” He nuzzled his cheek against my hand. “Did you just get here?”

“Yeah. I bought groceries for you.” I pulled my hand away reluctantly. “I’m going to shower before I join you.”

He was obviously exhausted, but straightened with a yawn that spoke of his determination to wait for me. He tousled his hair, which was starting to grow out again. “Okay.”

I gave him a wave as I turned to make my way to his bathroom. We had separate apartments but kept product doubles to avoid carting the same set of toiletries between our places, or perhaps worse—forgetting our own and using the ‘wrong’ set by mistake. When I wasn’t using my products, they were tucked away underneath the sink and out of sight. Spencer was a rather private person, and we were attempting to be discreet. It was one of the main reasons we hadn’t moved in together yet, even if it meant there were weeks when one of us stayed over at the other’s apartment more than their own.

I set my cap on the counter but discarded my clothes and tossed them in his hamper, moving some of his clothes aside so that mine weren’t lying on top. If someone from his team came over unexpectedly, as had happened once or twice before, it would prevent them from seeing anything damning like a pair of panties or a bra. For a moment I stared at myself in the mirror—tawny with dark hair and darker eyes, a birthmark by my navel, and a smattering of freckles across my nose and upper cheeks. I didn’t waste any time dawdling after that, instead speeding through washing myself and brushing my teeth.

When I emerged, Spencer had resumed reading, though he seemed on the verge of drifting off again. He’d also retrieved my pillow from his closet. I left the bathroom door open and climbed into bed next to him. The bed shifting under my weight made him startle into full wakefulness, alert once more. He glanced at me and swallowed, patently _not_ expecting me to be naked. I pressed into his side, kissing his neck. It immediately drew a soft gasp from him. He fumbled comically with the book as he tried to mark his place. I continued trailing kisses along his neck patiently as I waited. Eventually he managed, then all but shoved it onto his nightstand.

He turned to me then, reaching for me. He pulled me closer to him, his lips pressing tentatively into mine. He was, as always, hesitant to be the one initiating touch, moving as if unsure of himself. I crawled into his lap, straddling him, and discovered that he was already a bit hard. My fingers tangled carefully into his hair as I ground against him. I caught his lips, leaning my forehead against his. His hands fluttered awkwardly before settling on my hips. Soon Spencer was whining for more, making the most exquisite sounds. I bit lightly at his neck then tried crawling off of him.

To perhaps both of our surprise, he gripped onto me tighter, wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me to him as he switched positions. He panted nervously, pupils blown, as he stared down at me, his body now hovering between my legs. “Is—is this okay?” He swallowed nervously. “I—I mean—”

I cut him off with a kiss, undulating upward to press against his straining erection. “Yes, it’s okay,” I reassured him softly. “Now please make love to me?”

“I—yes, that.” He flushed.

Spencer was adorable. As many times as we’d done this, he always seemed slightly flustered by the prospect, as if he couldn’t believe we were together, that he was touching me. I knew about his…less than pleasant high school and college experiences, as well as how many people viewed him. I adored him. I tried making our first time as slow, as tender, as soft as imaginable. I remembered his initial uncertainty, then the way he melted like butter.

Having been denied touch for so long, Spencer craved it—but only on _his_ terms. He was, after all, a germaphobe on the spectrum, which we had in common. His innate drive to show physical affection, however, increased the more he cared for someone. The care with which he examined me, the thoughtful way he placed every kiss and caress, were all Spencer as much as his tiny, chaste trail of kisses from my neck in a straight line toward my thighs was. I arched off of the mattress when he slipped his fingers into me and sucked my clit into his mouth.

“Spencer …”

I moaned as he released it just so he could alternate between dragging the flat of his tongue over it and laving over it with the blade in a succession of short flicks. His wrist twisted and turned as he maneuvered his fingers around inside of me, searching until he found the spot that made me whimper. He didn’t let up even as I came, keeping his movements precise. He let up when I started to thrash, but only briefly. He sucked my fluids off of his fingers, then lowered his tongue to my entrance. He rubbed the pad of his thumb on the spot just above my clit as his tongue replaced his fingers. My legs spread wider. Another man might have commented on that with something perverted. Sweet Spencer _blushed_.

Eventually I couldn’t stand it. I tugged at his hair to get his attention. “Spencer, please.”

“You want me to—”

“Yes, please.” I stroked his hair away from his face. “I need to feel you inside of me.”

His earlier blush deepened, a mix between a flush of pleasure and his slight embarrassment at the admission. It was still difficult for him to hear things like that.

I urged him toward me, hooking my leg around his waist when he complied and hovered over me. Being that close to my lips, he couldn’t help the impulse to kiss me. I tasted myself in his mouth, on his tongue and on his lips. It was intoxicating.

His breath came in short gasps as I helped him work his way out of his pajama bottoms. He shivered when the air touched his cock, and again when I rubbed against him so that it parted my puffy outer lips, sliding slickly between them. A moan fell helplessly from his mouth. He laid his forehead on my shoulder, pressing the ridge of his brows into my collarbone.

“Violet.” His voice trembled. “I…” He swallowed again, anxious about something. “I love you.”

The words left his mouth as he drove into me. My fingers curled against the back of his neck, holding his head in place. One hand, however, rested on his shoulder-blade as I wrapped my arm around him to keep him close. “I love you too, Spencer,” I whispered, nuzzling into the side of his neck. He could be awkward at times, especially in social situations, but here, between us, some of that fell away. He still didn’t know how to handle being loved, being _adored_ , by someone as a significant other, as a _partner_ , but he was getting there.

He wasn’t one to rush anything, and that included intimacy. His pace was torturously slow, the burning trail of sensation he left exquisitely agonizing. The only times he would be a bit faster, a bit harder, a bit more frantic, were when a particular case really got to him or he’d personally been in a life-threatening scenario. I’d picked up the pieces a few times after that, not saying anything when it turned more into a—for Spencer’ anyway—hard and fast fucking. He’d cling to me afterward, spilling his guts in the dark as we lay naked together, and on rare occasions, when something really got to him or a child died, crying. Sometimes a case would have the complete opposite effect, making him even gentler and slower as he made love.

Tonight he seemed to be in the latter mindset, his thrusts more languid. I nibbled on his earlobe the way he seemed to like it, scratching gently at his scalp as I did. He relaxed into me without an ounce of tension remaining. He turned his head to peer at me between the strands of a bit of hair flopping over his face. He continued to roll his hips, pulling out and sinking into me with ease. “Violet, will you, ah….” He paused. “I—I have something to ask of you.” He ducked his head down again, hiding against my shoulder. I wasn’t sure what he would ask. I didn’t think he was emotionally ready to propose—not just yet, not with how fragile he was. I knew he wanted to ask, someday—we’d even discussed it—but he’d work up to that on his own time. He all but mumbled into my shoulder, “Will you meet the team?”

I gaped at him. “What?” I blurted.

His thrusts ground to a halt and he stilled within me. Not with a coming orgasm, but to respond properly to me. He glanced at me shyly, once more hiding behind his hair, though I could still see his cheeks reddening. “I’d like it if you could, you know, meet the team. I—I think I’m—I think I’m ready.”

His earnest, stammered confession warmed me. I swept his hair back to get a clear view of his face, then pressed a kiss to his forehead and the bridge of his nose. “If you’re ready, I’m ready.” I felt my heartbeat speed up nervously, but I meant it.

“That’s, ah, that’s great.” He seemed genuinely thrilled at the prospect, if somewhat anxious. “I’m—I’m glad. We could go tomorrow?”

I nodded. “I don’t have any classes or office hours that day.” I taught at one of the local universities.

The smile on Spencer’s face turned blinding and he clutched me close in a joyful embrace as he started to move again, this time with more urgency though still sensually soft and slow. I let my hand drift away from his shoulder and down his spine, splaying across his lower back. The hand on his neck twisted, fingers curling against his nape. “Harder.”

I could tell he was worried about hurting me, but he complied, angling my hips with one hand so that he could find better purchase. His cock bit deeper, further, as he panted against my neck. I cried out with his name escaping as a whispered moan at the end. I could hear his breath hitch in the way that meant something aroused him. He was so shy, rarely confident in voicing it using fully-formed words, but I knew what that soft exhalation meant. There was only the sound of his breathy, suppressed moans and murmured pleasure accompanied by the slick glide of his cock every time he withdrew and reentered me.

“Oh, god, Spencer.” I clenched around him when he struck something that made black dance across my vision. “There, there, _oh god_ , Spencer.” I came again, tugging his head up for a frenzied kiss, fingers flexing against his back. “I love you,” I whispered as I shook slightly, eyes fluttering shut. “I love you.”

“Violet, I…” His orgasm choked off his response for several seconds. When he finally fell motionless, he rolled us into our side, still locked together. “I really, really love you,” he confessed, ghosting his fingertips over my cheek. “I think...I think I want…after you meet the team….”

There it went again, his nervous tic of swallowing when overcome with emotion. 

“Will you marry me?”

It caught me off guard. I didn’t think he was ready. Was _I_ ready? When had he thought of this? What—?

As if sensing my wildly spinning thoughts, he brought me back to myself with an earnest kiss. He whispered against my lips. “Please, Violet, say something.”

“Yes.” I disentangled my hand from his hair and brought it around to lightly trace his lips. “I’ll meet them, and I’ll marry you. Silly Dr. Reid.”

He pinked nicely and ducked to once more hide behind some of his lengthening hair. “I’d rather be silly with you than be alone or with someone else.”

I could feel the sticky seed wanting to spill from me, only held at bay by his cock. “I’d rather be silly with you too.” I touched my nose to his. He hummed contentedly in response, and we fell asleep in each other’s arms.


End file.
